Testo Woedy - Rob49 feat. Birdman
Testo della canzone Woedy (Rob49 feat. Birdman), tratta dall'album 4GOD II
Ay, yeah, I'm good rockin' like this shit up
Mm-hmm, got no problem, pussy-ass nigga, mm-mm
Ay, yeah, you understand me?
This ain't no O.T.T type shit, nigga, let's get it poppin'
Yeah I'm slidin' expensive, I'm fuckin'
Two new coupe of bitches, I'm blendin' em in
Shit my trappin' too real, I don't care what
I do, I'll fly a bitch out to Miami
49 why you be flexin' so much got more
Chains on then your ancestors
I done took a thousand losses no cap
I ain't trippin' I just wanna see my mans win
Oh you got all the money, I know
You fuckin' all the hoes, uh, huh
Heard you be sellin' dope, uh uh
I be sellin' pounds not rounds
Oh that's bubb, this is za
He want smoke put him in a blunt
He got good smoke in his lungs
Hunnid round drum on the gun
Nigga mad 'cause I'm richer then 'em
Like a ref bro, too official
Beat the block like Mannie Fresher
Beat the case like Johnnie Cochran
I was lowkey tryna minimize it
Rico story like speaker knockers
Drive the whip like Ricky Bobby
Keep it solid don't tell nobody
Boomin' like the candy lady, woedy
I'm a real project baby, woedy
Slappin' like an alligator, woedy
And she gon' give that face up, woedy
Woedy, woedy, woedy, woedy
Woedy, woedy, woedy, woedy
Yeah, baddie or not if you ain't fuckin'
Tonight then I'm kickin' you out, yeah
Cousin slingin' that Vaseline treat the
Burglar house like a gold mine
I ain't even have no house no cap
I was puttin' that shit at my dawg house
And I wasn't trippin' cousin no it
Took time to get my own spot
Yeah I'm slidin' expensive, I'm fuckin'
Two new coupe of bitches, I'm blendin' 'em in
Shit my trappin' too real I don't care
What I do I'll fly a bitch out to Miami
49 why you be flexin' so much got
More chains on then your ancestors
I done took a thousand losses no cap
I ain't trippin' I just wanna see my mans win
Oh you got all the money I know
You fuckin' all the hoes, uh-huh
Heard you be sellin' dope, uh-uh
I be sellin' pounds not rounds
Oh that's bubb this is za
He want smoke put him in a blunt
He got good smoke in his lungs
Hunnid round drum on the gun
Bullet holes like savage nem
Sellin' weed at my mamma crib
Paint her face like super set
How you lovin' this goofy nigga
You ain't do what I think you did
50 cent she fuck many men
Keep my heat I don't care what weather
Vultures all in my granny crib
I'ma fuck 'cause I ain't her friend
Real money I pay the bitch
No cap I'll buy a hoe
Fly em back on a private jet
Real P like pot and pan
Niggas sweeter then cotton candy
Money taller then K Durant
Trap house jumpin' like Ja Morant
He been sellin' that Koo Klux Klan
And he sellin' that vulture pack
I guess he don't play with tracks
He fell off he still ain't back
I'm press this engine until it bust
I'm tryna kill this bitch
I feel like a six of James Harden
I'm on my Philly shit
Yeah I'm slidin' expensive I'm fuckin'
Two new coupe of bitches I'm blendin' em in
Shit my trappin' too real I don't care what
I do I'll fly a bitch out to Miami
49 why you be flexin' so much got more
Chains on then your ancestors
I done took a thousand losses no cap
I ain't trippin' I just wanna see my mans win
Oh you got all the money I know
You fuckin'
All the hoes uh huh
Heard you be sellin' dope, uh uh
I be sellin' pounds not rounds
Oh that's bubb this is za
He want smoke put him in a blunt
He got good smoke in his lungs
Hunnid round drum on the gun
We're the rich nigga shit
Stand up man, that way
Credits
Writer(s): Bryan Williams, Robert Thomas, Raphael Oliveira, Ronan Paul Wiley
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